Harmonic Convergence, iPod style
On my way to work last week, I was listening to a remix of Sarah McLachlan's "Steaming" on my recently acquired iPod shuffle. As I approached the corner of the building where I work, I heard a saxophonist, at the corner. I was about to pass him and turn toward the building entrance, but it dawned on me to stop and listen a bit longer. It was then I noticed: every note of his was in harmony, his tempo in sync, so that as a chord changed in the song playing through my earbuds, it sounded as though the saxophonist followed along. His eyelids were squeezed closed, and his eyebrows moved slightly up and down as he concentrated on the quality of his timbre.
I told a passerby, "His playing matches what I'm listening to," and he smiled.
I put a dollar in his jar and paused to look at the saxophonist, to speak to him of this moment. But he still played, eyes shut, adrift on the waves of his melody line. I walked away.
I told a passerby, "His playing matches what I'm listening to," and he smiled.
I put a dollar in his jar and paused to look at the saxophonist, to speak to him of this moment. But he still played, eyes shut, adrift on the waves of his melody line. I walked away.